How did you get so wise?
by leafgreenflower
Summary: Tikki and Plagg have learnt some things the hard way when it comes to working with humans. A series of historicals in different eras, with each arc posted complete. Current: chapters 4-6. Nearly 4000 years ago in Hammurabi's Babylonia, the Rule-breaker's Cat confronts one of the earliest codifications of Law, and it's the entire Euphrates floodplain that loses.
1. Marinette's Prologue

**A/N: This fic will be a series of one/two-shot historicals about previous miraculous holders. I've only watched season 1, so this-all will probably not be canon-compliant with stuff y'all know from season 2, if they give us any backstory there. I don't have a specific update schedule but I have a few chapters in mind, and when I have one written it'll go up pretty promptly (I don't spend long writing or hold onto stuff for long). I'm starting by uploading the first arc so you get that full story as well as Marinette's prologue. Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think of each historical interlude if it grabs you!**

* * *

"It's not just her, Marinette", the sweet red kwami piped from her spot on the desk.

The half-Chinese girl rubbed her eyes in frustration. "How can you say that? There's nobody else who acts like Chloe!"

"Not in your class, but your class isn't the world. Chloe seems unbelievable, I know, but there've been people just like her all through time." Tikki sighed. "That's not what I meant though. You can't become like that – or stay like that – without other people who prop you up, who keep it easy for you to be that way, maybe even want you to stay that way because it makes them feel safer than if you changed. If you want to change Chloe, all the people who depend on her have to change too. And some of them won't want to."

Marinette nodded, thinking it through. Asking Chloe to be nicer to people? Not something she was optimistic about, but as class rep she could bring a bit of weight to what she said. If she had to ask Mayor Bourgeois to stop backing Chloe up on her every whim? She'd be lucky to even get him to listen until the end of the sentence.

"It makes so much sense when you say it like that, Tikki – but I would never have thought of it." She smiled at the kwami and reached out to stroke her head. "How did you get so wise?"

Tikki laughed, a high piping sound of delight. "If you lived as long as I have, and worked with so many people throughout time, you'd know just as much as I do". She flew up to Marinette's cheek and rubbed against it. "Some of it is just making mistake after mistake".

"Then I should be as wise as you before I've even left school!" Marinette grumbled in frustration. "Mistakes are my thing", she groaned. "Sometimes I wonder how I could get chosen to be the symbol of good luck. Bad luck would have been a better fit!"

"Oh, Marinette!" her kwami soothed. "Good luck and bad luck aren't so separate from each other. You learn from your mistakes really well, and each one of them brings you an opportunity to be better." She giggled. "So if you keep making mistakes at the rate you are now, you'll be as wise as me before the end of the year!" She dodged the screwed up ball of notepaper Marinette threw at her, still giggling.

"Seriously though, Tikki", Marinette said, looking back at the paper in front of her. "Were there any times when somebody taught you?"

The little kwami slowed, and looked up at the window, out to the stars. "There were. If you like, I could tell you a story of one of them."

"Please?" Marinette hopped onto her couch, and held up the plate of cookies she'd put there earlier.

"Well, seeing as we're talking about good luck and bad luck being not so different, perhaps I should tell you a story from Ancient Egypt." Tikki zoomed over, snuggled up and began.


	2. Kmt and Dsrt, part 1 (New Kingdom)

**A tale of Miraculous holders in the New Kingdom of Ancient Egypt, as told by Tikki to Marinette.**

(Some three thousand three hundred years ago, give or take a few...)

Dakarai slipped quietly through the market, trying not to draw too much attention. She tugged the red headscarf so it hung a little deeper around her face, and smiled pleasantly but non-committally if anyone made eye-contact. Not too many people did. It was a busy time in the market and she didn't look like a customer today. Her task was to learn the market's paths, the ways people came to and from it, the feel of the makeshift alleys between the tiny stalls, the bustle of the crowd. The market shops were set up every morning before dawn and taken down an hour after sunset when the oil lamps began to flicker, so they changed all the time and yet not at all. Should she need to run through it at speed, diving and leaping around people and over benches, she needed to _feel_ where things were without waiting for her eyes to tell her. She resisted the urge to run a finger over her earrings. Small, round, black, just like the others of her temple wore. One day hers would shine red with white spots. If she studied. For now they were as black as her skin, black as the soil brought by the flood each year, the black of Nubia and beyond.

When the sun was high, she and the other red-scarf-clad priests and priestesses returned to the temple. Over water and a grain porridge, they shared their stories of the city. Each had explored somewhere new to them, or at least somewhere they had not been for a while, and they compared notes with each other. Tikki roamed amongst them, a tiny red bug spirit wandering from shoulder to shoulder, accepting proffered bits of sweetened grain.

* * *

"What? Did they all know about you? Not just your holder?" Marinette asked.

"Yes they did," said Tikki. "They were all my holders."

"How did that work?"

* * *

Merytre brought out a platter of sweetmeats and tossed a piece of honeyed pastry to Tikki. "Beloved Manifest, it's the end of the _decan_. A new day starts in a few hours and the new _decan_ with it."

Tikki smiled from her perch on Henuttawy's shoulder. "Time to share the _heka_?"

Pensekhmet called out across the table, "Are the new three ready yet?" He gestured at Dakarai, Mashanksse and Isetnofret, present at the table but a little quieter, less relaxed than the others.

"I think so", said Tikki. "The Ritual of the Dance is coming up soon, and I'd like them to have a run before then." She smiled at Tentopet. "I know you were next in the roster, Tentopet, but would you mind if we moved it back a _decan_? We can split this _decan_ between the three of them."

Tentopet gave an easy shrug. "It makes sense. Though you know I love having you!" she winked at Tikki.

"All right then", said Merytre. She pointed at each of the three new holders in turn. "One, two, three; and four is roll again!" and tossed a four-sided cylinder in the air. It landed and rolled so that the side showing a 2 was face up. "Mashanksse, you're first. Take out your earrings."

He fumbled at them with a look of awe, removing them and putting them on the table. Merytre looked at Tikki, who nodded. Then she removed her own earrings, handing them to Mashanksse. Tikki vanished, reappearing as he inserted the earrings into his own ears. Merytre pulled out a little box and took a pair of identical black earrings out, putting them back into her ears.

"How's it feel?" Tikki smiled at him.

"Uhhhh... no different yet?" he said with surprise.

"That's how it should be", Henuttawy said. "It's when you become the God as human that it becomes different." She grinned at him. "When the sun sets, why don't you and Tikki go see in the new day together?"

* * *

"So, each holder had you for a week?"

"Sort of. A _decans_ is ten days, not seven, so there were only three weeks in a month. And you had eight days of work before you got a weekend."

Marinette's jaw dropped. "Eight days between weekends? I thought Mondays were hard enough as it was."

"It was nice though. Ten days is a nice amount of time to spend getting to know someone. When this happened, I had eight holders including the three new ones. Every holder is different and I need to adjust a little. If I was changing every day it would be pretty stressful for me. Even changing every three days like we were going to for the new people was going to be hard for me. But I knew we needed to give them the experience as quickly as we could."

"Why?" Marinette asked. "Because of that thing you mentioned, the Ritual of the Dance?"

"Yes."

* * *

Dakarai approached the temple with caution. There had been two black-scarved people at the river today when she went there to study the people and their tradings. Not for any obvious reason, just going about their business, and occasionally tugging their scarf to shadow their face a little more. Another had been in the market yesterday. She'd made eye contact with him, very briefly – enough to catch a glimpse of red hair before a silver-ringed hand had tugged the scarf over a little. It had made her heart leap with adrenalin, but they'd turned from each other politely and allowed the busy market to sweep them out of each other's sight in mere moments.

Mashanksse's turn with the _heka_ earrings had gone without mishap. Isetnofret in her turn had encountered a _medjay_ , a guard, who seemed a little too full of his own importance but had handled the situation smoothly. Apparently channeling the full fierceness, joy and power of one who walks with a deity on their shoulder was enough to make the _medjay_ back down in deference. Iset hadn't needed to transform to make her point. Merytre had clapped her on the shoulder in approval. Their training emphasised that nobody should know which of them walked with the deity at any time unless a transformation was absolutely needed. Folk understood that the gods were everywhere, reaching into human lives, and they saw in the streets the temple guardians who carried a god's favour and could bring its _heka_. They didn't need to know that only one of the temple guardians could transform at any one time. And folk definitely didn't need to know which of them it was.

Now it was almost Dakarai's turn. She'd take the earrings after their noon meal. Assuming she made it to the temple safely. She had felt like she was being followed for much of the morning, and it had taken all her training to look like a confident priestess rather than a timid student. As she crossed the last street, someone fell into step beside her. A darting glance saw a black scarf. Dakarai stopped dead, reaching into herself for that sense of power and pulling herself up with a pretense of confidence, hoping the black-scarf wouldn't call her bluff. "Why are you following me?" she demanded.

"I wish to know my opposites", a laughing voice purred at her. "The Dance is soon, after all. Who knows which of us will dance?" The sound of his voice, mellow and teasing, was glorious. It sent a shiver through her spine.

"It is unlikely to be me", she frowned. "And you walk the edge of rudeness in following us to find out."

"Ah, but I haven't followed everyone. Most I've seen all I need to from a distance. You, however..." The voice trailed off. "I don't really know why I followed you." The voice returned to strength, liquid and laughing. "Perhaps because you are so beautiful. Are you surrrrrre you will not Dance?" It was like a purr on her skin.

She turned in surprise, but he was already moving away. He cast one glance back, and again she thought she caught a glimpse of red hair in the shadows around his face. She shook herself, and went into the temple to join the others. After that encounter, becoming the human face of a God seemed less scary than she'd thought.

* * *

"You keep saying God", Marinette asked. "Did they think that's what you were?" She took a sudden fast breath. "Are you a god?"

"Well, sort of. Kwamis are magical creatures and we are _very_ powerful. In this century people think a god is all-knowing and all-powerful. But they also think there's only one, who's invisible and far away. In the New Kingdom people had a different idea of what a god was. There were lots of gods and they didn't know everything. They could only use their power in their own places, not anywhere they liked, and there were limits on what they could do. But people expected the gods to walk among them and be part of their lives. Nobody was surprised by kwamis at all. We were just another animal god whose followers wore pretty jewellery." Tikki sighed, a little wistfully. "It was nice to not have to be a secret all the time."

* * *

The rooftop Tikki had led Dakarai to was one of the highest in the town, though it was still quite low. "It's OK if people see you transform", she reminded Dakarai.

"Is it also OK if they see me fall off this building right after?" Dakarai tried to smile, tried to sound like she was joking. But she was quite serious, and Tikki knew it.

"I want to reassure you that it'll all be OK", she said. "This is our first time together though, so I don't know how to tell you that. What would you like me to say?"

Dakarai was surprised, but only for a moment. The new guardians had all been taught that they had to work with Tikki to have a friendship, a true partnership, and that sometimes this would mean difficult questions. Dakarai stroked Tikki's head, thinking about it. "You must find it very different working with each of us", she hedged in response. "Tentopet is so direct, Merytre is always in charge, Henuttawy is always playing about. Senseneb is quiet all the time, but when she speaks she speaks true."

They both laughed, thinking of what Senseneb had said to Pensekhmet over a game of _aseb_ earlier. He was probably still blushing. Tikki flew out of her place in Dakarai's scarf and turned to hover in front of her face. "And what are you?"

"Me? I don't know what I am."

"Well, perhaps you should try on your new spots, and find out!"

Dakarai nodded, and took a deep breath. " _Hesty merty!_ "

The air shimmered like a mirage waiting to happen. Her red scarf extended, falling down over her back and fluttering like white-spotted wings. Her long pleated skirt shortened to just below her knees, turning red, and wrapped itself around her legs men's style for freedom of movement. Her black earrings became red with white spots, and a red and white spotted mask rolled across her face. The shimmer coalesced at her waist, into a whip coiled around her stomach, and a red and white spinning top tucked into it.

As the mirage-shimmer faded, she looked out over the roofs. "I am Dsrt!" she yelled to the sky. Flicking her whip across to the next roof, she leapt across, allowing the whip to pull her leap in the right direction. It felt like nothing else she'd ever done. She leapt again, just for the feel of it, as if she was truly one with the hot winds of the red desert, ready to rain destruction over the town. Scarf fluttering, she flew.

* * *

Marinette's mouth was opening and closing, without anything coming out. Tikki took a moment to go get and eat another cookie. When it was gone, she said "What's the first thing you want to ask?"

"Um... white... no, um, whip... no. Uhhh... words... um..." Marinette's lips flopped a little more, silent words going unspoken. Then... "You can transform me with different outfits?"

Tikki groaned and slapped her forehead.

"Of course that's what you'd ask about first. Yes, of course I can. Each Ladybug has to wear something appropriate to their time and place.

"So you can give me pockets?"

"Let's go back to your other questions. The words change with every language that a Miraculous holder speaks. Those ones mean "You are praised and loved". Yoyos didn't exist there and then, but children did play with a top that you could wrap a whip around and pull to set it spinning. My holders had one of those. As to white spots... ladybugs aren't exactly the same everywhere. And black meant something else."

A frown drew across Marinette's face. "Like the black scarves."

"Exactly."

"So what did they mean that was so bad?"

Tikki was silent for a minute, before answering. "I didn't say it was bad." Marinette looked down at where the little kwami cuddled up to her and waited until she continued. "Remember I said that Dsrt was like the red winds of destruction? My holders had an opposite. Kmt, the black flood of creation."

"But that means..."

"...that my powers are not as black and white, or rather black and red, as you thought."


	3. Kmt and Dsrt, part 2 (New Kingdom)

Dsrt laughed with the sheer power in her veins. She lashed her whip out, catching onto the wooden rail of the little river dock, pulling herself over in an inhuman flight to land on one foot and one knee. Not on the dock. On the mud just next to the dock, she hadn't quite got her aim right yet. Mud splattered onto her face and her wings, staining the latter. It might have worried her before now, that sense of imperfection, of being seen to be not enough. But it no longer mattered. She wiped the mud from her eyes, invisible stain against her deep black skin, and laughed again. She could run and leap so high, so wild, it hurt with joy. Nearby, a small child stood frozen in surprise, ball held about to throw, but as Dsrt laughed, they laughed with her. The little child ran forward to hug her, knocking Dsrt back off her heel and into the mud. More splatters flew. So did the ball, into the water, floating out of reach. Dsrt grinned at the child. "I know how to make a new ball". She looked around and selected a stand of reeds dying back, small and thin and dry. Her whip flashed back and forth faster than the eye could see, cutting through the reeds and shredding them into tiny pieces. The pieces fell in a cloud, and her whip pulled them together into a tight clump. It was... it was magic. She ripped off a small piece of her wrap-around and pressed the reeds into it, tying it tightly, then tossed it to the small child. They reached and caught it, looking at the ball in awe.

"Nice work", a voice purred behind her. She spun, startled. A man stood there, black pleated skirt wrapped around his legs from his hips to his knees, black headscarf held loosely away from his face by two black cat ears tucked into his hair. "Kmt", she said without inflection. The black mask disguised the details of his face, but she recognised his red hair. And that purr.

"Dsrt", he replied, equally inflectionless. And then... _smirked_ at her. "I see you are destroying the river bank today."

She glanced reflexively at the ball, then pretended she didn't.

"No need to fret. I can rebuild it." He lifted his staff and did something to its middle. It came apart into two smaller pieces, joined together with a loop of cord into an A-shape. He took the hoe and lifted black earth back around the base of the first clump reeds, building a small mound around them. After a moment he looked back over his shoulder at her. "Would you bring them water?" She must have looked blank for a moment – she was no _shaduf_ – because he nodded towards her spinning top. After a moment she worked out what he meant, and nodded. He went back to mounding earth with his hoe. She touched the end of her whip to the top and it wound around it effortlessly. She flicked the top towards the water, and its spin brought the water up into a spout. A drag of her whip, and the water spout landed gently amongst the clump of reeds. They worked together that way for a few minutes, him hoeing up the earth into mounds around each shredded clump, her bringing a small spout of water up to the mound. It was surprisingly comfortable to be in his presence, not what she'd expected from Kmt at all. The way they worked together... made _sense_.

Finally they finished the last clump. He sat back on his heels with a sigh, reaching along his hoe to adjust it back into a staff – and Dsrt hit him in the face with one last water spout. He fell backwards, spluttering. Dsrt just laughed. Kmt stood up, shaking himself. His expression was very much that of a disgusted cat. She bent over with more laughter, and he took advantage of her distraction to swiftly steal in by her side and wipe his face with her headscarf. She pulled it back from his hands with a mock-angry cry, then blinked. They were standing very close, and suddenly they both realised it. He reached to her face, touching it gently. "You are also beautiful as Dsrt", he said quietly, and then turned her face with a finger towards the reeds. "Look". As they watched, new reeds sprang out of the mounds, climbing up towards the sky. Soon the clumps of reeds were there as if they had never been gone. "We work together well", he said with a tinge of awe. Dsrt felt it too. She thought she might never get used to the magic of this, and it seemed he felt the same. That is, right up until he stuck his staff between her feet and twisted, so that she stumbled into the mud. Before she could right herself, he dashed back towards the streets of the town.

Of course, she chased him. But only until the first big street. Then decorum returned, and she lost him in the crowd. As she should.

* * *

"She was creative", Marinette mused. "I'd not have thought to have used a whip like that. Or a spinning top".

"You're also very creative, and you use your yoyo in a range of ways she might never have thought of", Tikki replied.

"I'm confused though", Marinette said. "If Kmt has the same kwami as Chat Noir, then shouldn't his power be that of destruction? How did the reeds grow?"

Tikki smiled. "The new reeds were already there, waiting to grow. All they needed was the old reeds to be broken away to make room for them, and the new earth to take hold in. Kmt broke away the old reeds with his hoe. And he built mounds, but hoed the earth to do so. The people who lived on the floodplains of the Nile understood better than most that creation and destruction are closely linked." She looked at Marinette, who was still puzzled, and grinned cheekily. "Think of it this way. What if Chat Noir made a hole? Is that creation or destruction?"

* * *

It was the day of the Dance. At the noon meal, Henuttawy took Tikki's earrings from Senseneb with a shout of glee. In the afternoon, Tentopet, Dakarai and Mashanksse carried several sacks across the town to the house of the tomb decorator Qen.

Qen's head servant met them at the door and led them up to the flat roof. Dakarai recognised the roof – it was one of the highest in town. She'd watched the sun set and the new day begin from here just a few weeks before. This time, it wasn't empty. A low table had been carried up. Two black-scarved temple priests were already there, laying out covered dishes on the table. Tentopet walked up next to them, put down her sack and began getting out its contents. "Hey, Gabrielophorou. How've you been?"

The black-scarf next to her grinned. "Good to see you, Tentopet. I take it you're not Dancing this year?"

"Roster didn't work out that way. You neither I take it?" She looked over at Dakarai and Mashanksse, standing still in shock. "Hey, relax you two. We're the opposites of the followers of Kmt, but we're not their sworn enemies. That's just an idea that folk got in their heads. Come help set up." She looked at Mashanksse, and followed his gaze to the second black-scarf, then nudged Gabrielophorou. "Hey Gabe, introduce us to your hot friend."

Gabrielophorou kept unpacking as he answered. "This is Ngeshshadena. He's from the coast." He glanced up in time to catch the look that Mashanksse and Ngeshshadena were giving each other, then grinned. "I see I should mention something to the roster-makers."

"I will if you will", Tentopet replied. "Dakarai, bring over your stuff".

Dakarai squatted down and began pulling out containers. "Date bread, honey bread... an aseb board?" She looked at Tentopet, puzzled. The older woman just smiled. "Sometimes the Dance takes a while." Dakarai lifted the lids of some of the other containers to see what was there. She found dried fish in horseradish oil, lentils with sesame, fresh figs and... soured clotted cream? She put the lid back on that container quickly, waving the scent from her nose. Gabrielophorou laughed. "Not my favourite either, young one. But the Beloved Manifest has a particular liking for it." Mashanksse put out a closed pitcher of barley beer and cups, then a small basket of fresh flat carob pods next to them. "That's all of mine," he said. Tentopet smiled again. "We can stay a few minutes if you want to chat to these guys. The nice thing about this roof, besides the height, is that Qen's wall is just high enough that nobody below can see us when we sit or lie down like this." She stretched out next to Gabrielophorou, who draped an arm across her, and closed her eyes. "What happens on the roof, stays on the roof." Mashanksse sat down next to Ngeshshadena, who was giving him a look both bold and shy. Neither seemed displeased by the proximity.

Returning, they were three streets away from their own temple when Tentopet stiffened, looking ahead. "Oh no, not good". Henuttawy was limping down the street, attempting to hold herself steady with a long stick. The other three raced to catch her up.

"What happened?" Dakarai asked.

"Oh, the silliest thing. I slipped as I was walking through the market," Henuttawy said.

"Walking?" asked Tentopet drily as she slipped her shoulder under Henuttawy's arm.

"Well, I might have been skipping. Or running. I'm not sure." Henuttawy had the grace to look a little embarrassed. Mashanksse just laughed. "Henuttawy, I don't think I've ever seen you walk when you could be doing any other thing."

Dakarai caught sight of Tikki, hidden in the folds of Henuttawy's scarf. The Beloved Manifest was giggling too. Dakarai lowered her voice for the next question so as not to be overheard. "But the markets are several streets away, and you can barely walk. Why didn't you transform, and let Tikki help get you home?"

Henuttawy smiled. "It's something you new ones haven't learnt yet. On the Day of the Dance, we don't transform until the Ritual begins. Tikki needs to be at full strength. Besides, it was my own fault." She sighed. "I'm just disappointed. Being Dsrt for the Dance is... well, it's amazing. I was really looking forward to it. That's why I went out for a walk – I couldn't sit still. And then I ran into Meritamen..." She trailed off, blushing. Tentopet stopped walking. " _Meritamen_ Meritamen? The black scarf?"

Henuttawy nodded. Dakarai could barely hear her whisper "She's so cute!"

"But was she..."

"I think so. She was smiling, and she said she'd see me tonight. I think she was going to be Kmt."

Tentopet was still standing stopped in the street. " _Was_? Henuttawy, what did you do?"

"Um... well, when I slipped I might have grabbed onto a hanging carpet, which pulled down a clothesline, which knocked a pot over, which made a bread boy lose balance and tip his tray, which sent a pile of flatbread all over her face, so she couldn't see, and then she fell too..."

Tentopet's mouth was hanging open like she wanted to say something, but no words were coming out. Finally she pulled herself together with an almost audible snap, and started shuffling along again under Henuttawy's weight. All she said though was "We need to tell Merytre about this. Immediately."

Merytre looked almost as startled as Tentopet had, when they were safely inside the temple complex and away from the eyes of the streets and could tell her what had happened. Senseneb couldn't stop laughing. Henuttawy was pouting at her, which made Senseneb laugh even more. Finally Merytre said "Enough." She looked around at the gathered guardians. "Some of you know what this means, so I will explain it to the rest of you." They grew still to listen. "Dsrt is the representative of bad luck. Kmt is the representative of good luck. But truthfully, neither is bad or good. They are both Luck.

"Henuttawy cannot dance tonight. That is her bad luck. But it is good luck for someone else, who will be chosen in her place. Always it is both, together and entwined. There is always a Great Balance. Luck is the thing that sends the balance askew, so that we find a foothold to live and grow within the great unchanging Eternity. It is the force that shakes the lives we live just as the flood stirs up the river and keeps it from stagnation. When the two Great Gods of Luck join as one, great things can happen." She let her voice drop out of lecture-mode and looked at the newest three. "In practical terms, what this means is we're going to roll a die to see who dances. Normally I'd just go by the roster, but if both the planned Kmt and Dsrt have been taken out of play, then something bigger is going on here." She looked at Tikki enquiringly. Tikki just shrugged. "Wasn't me".

Merytre nodded. "OK. Pairs first, then each pair can roll for highest." She pointed at each of the guardians in twos, saying "One, two, three, four", and rolled her four-sided cylinder. It came up a three – Dakarai and Pensekhmet. Pensekhmet tossed the cylinder in his hand once, then rolled it across the table saying "As the Beloved wishes". He winked at Tikki, then jumped back with a surprised howl as he saw the die stop on "1". Several of the others laughed, and after a moment so did Pensekhmet. "Best out of three?" he said, smiling, as he scooped up the die and handed it to Dakarai. Dakarai let the die fall from her fingers.

It rolled across the table, and stopped on the number 4.

Merytre clapped her on the shoulder. "It's you then. Tonight you are the red winds of Dsrt, and apparently also the thorn in the side of Shai who plans all things as they will be. Come with me, and we'll talk a little about the Ritual so you have more idea what you need to do."

* * *

It was an hour before sunset. Dakarai stood alone on the temple roof – alone except for Tikki, perched on her shoulder.

"Are you ready?" Tikki asked.

Dakarai looked out at the lowering sun. Only a few minutes until the Ritual of the Dance began. A thought struck her.

"I know what it is", she said.

"What what is?"

"What I want you to say to me", Dakarai said quietly.

"What do you want me to say?" Tikki said, just as quietly.

"Trust me".

There was a pause, then Tikki flew up in front of Dakarai's face and looked her in the eyes. "Don't you want me to explain anything else? Or tell you more about how it goes? I should be earning your trust, not commanding it."

"No. I don't need that. I trust you no matter how it goes. But I want you to say it, so that I know you know it and I know it."

The little red kwami looked shocked, but then slowly she smiled, nodding. She flew to Dakarai's forehead and rubbed her own against it. "Trust me", she said firmly.

Dakarai smiled. "I do.". She raised one arm to the sky, to the sun a handswidth above the horizon. " _Hesty merty_!"

* * *

Just outside the market, Dsrt landed hard on both feet, dust puffing out from underneath. "KMT!", she yelled. "SHALL WE DANCE?" Her voice was ferocious, wild, joyous... unstoppable. Like the red winds that tore down houses thought safe inside the town. The people at the market's entrance scattered out of her way, and the nearest stallholders began to quickly put away any stock they valued highly. Dsrt grinned, and began running through the market. Up over benches, around poles, leaping over piles of carpets and sometimes over the lines that they hung from. People leaned out of her way, careful not to touch the force of bad luck as it flew past, and they called her name loudly. She could hear elsewhere in the market a similar crowd of people calling the name of Kmt, and she steered away from that direction. No need to find each other too soon, Merytre had said. The people need to see you.

She left the market and swung up to a nearby roof. An old lady was there, setting out figs to dry in the sun. The lady squeaked her name as Dsrt ran along the roof's low wall and leapt out into nothing. Behind her, she heard the sound of Kmt coming nearer. She ducked into an alley, one she knew had more than one exit. Especially if you didn't mind taking a short-cut through the courtyard of the middle house. She leapt and spun in mid-air in the centre of the courtyard, whip flicking around her with a crack. Two men sat up from their mats, senet game forgotten, and shutters above pulled closed. From each she heard her name echoed, and echoed again.

The street beyond was quieter than usual, and some children had started a game of ball-stick using two wooden boxes as makeshift goals. Dsrt grabbed a pole from a nearby clothesline, letting the clothes fall into the dirt. She leapt into the middle of the game, slashing at the ball to the resounding cheers of the children. Her enhanced speed let her move around them as if they were standing still, and the ball went straight into the goal. She retrieved it and threw it back into the middle of the game – only to see it intercepted by a black blur. The blur stilled inhumanly quickly, resolving into a black-clad, black-masked man with red hair and cat ears, with the tip of his staff on the ball. The children screeched with sheer enthusiasm to see Kmt facing her down in the very middle of their game.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Shall we dance, Beloved?"

It was the traditional greeting.

She couldn't bring herself to speak it. The word felt foreign in her mouth. Yet every part of her yearned to know this man better. Even knowing that this was part of the Ritual of the Dance, the strength of the feeling still took her by surprise.

She mastered her tongue long enough to say "Only if you can stop me scoring". His eyes glinted, and she knew it was on.

The two of them weaved back and forth, passing the ball to one or another child and receiving it back, slashing at each other's sticks up and down the length of the makeshift court. She managed to send the ball through his legs. He almost over-balanced, and as she sped past him she murmured "Payback". When he passed her next, he murmured "But this ball's not nearly as good as yours". She hesitated for just a moment, caught by his words, and the ball sped past her into the goal. The children cheered, even those supposedly on Dsrt's team. Everyone wanted to see Kmt win. Dsrt gave him a half-bow, and leapt away. The chase was on.

They chased each other across rooftops and through courtyards, along streets and over canals. He balanced on top of a well; she struck out with her whip and nearly knocked him in. She raced for a ladder to a rooftop; he pulled it away with his staff as she climbed. But slowly, slowly, the chase became a circling around each other. What began as a challenge and had continued as a competition, slowly became a sharing. He reached for a ladder; she pushed it closer to him. She leapt onto the low wall around a roof; he leapt onto the parallel wall. They both leapt from the roof together. Red and black flew around each other and away, and then back to a centre again. If the two dancers had forgotten that the black dancer wore red and the red dancer wore black, not all the many watchers missed it. Nor did they miss the drawing together, the way that Dsrt and Kmt danced synchronised through the air and the streets as if they'd danced this way forever, knowing each other absolutely. Which they had, these gods from before time. The symmetry formed, broke and formed again across all of the town, and the people watched, called, cheered. Until finally they met in mid-air, each coming in one giant leap towards the other, colliding high above at the exact moment the setting sun touched the horizon... and plummeting down onto a rooftop. The crowds of people who'd followed the dance craned and peered, but none could see where they'd fallen.

* * *

"Ouch", said Marinette.

"Yeah", said Tikki, "that's what she said."

* * *

" _Hesty merty_ ", they groaned in unison. The costumes of Kmt and Dsrt disappeared, and their two kwamis rushed away to meet each other, squealing and chirping and purring.

He grinned at her, both lying on the roof, hidden by the low wall. "That was fun, Beloved".

The word still sounded strange to her, but not as much as before. She grinned back. "I think they'll be a while", she said, and they both glanced upwards at their two kwamis, who floated twirling and caressing in a deep embrace. Had they seen it, the same fond smile was on their faces.

"Well, that's pretty much the entire point of this ritual", he said. "Tikki and Plagg get to be together for a little."

"This is all for them?"

He looked at her, surprised. "Yes. Don't they deserve it?" There was unfeigned affection in his voice, and she found herself smiling and nodding in agreement.

His eyes roamed her, turning deep and dark. "We get to spend time with our opposites too".

She let his unspoken offer pass unremarked and gestured to the small table. "Care for a game or three of aseb while we wait?"

He smirked at her and picked up a ripe fig. "Sure. Are we playing for any stakes?"

She smirked back, mimicking his expression and tone. "Sure. Winner gets to give the other a kiss."

His breath hitched. "Do I get to choose where I kiss you?"

Dakarai laughed loudly. "So sure that you're going to win?" She took the fig from his hand, bit into it and handed it back. "I'll let you have the first move, and I'll still beat you. Beloved."

Some hours later, under the moonlight and in the warm winds, two exhausted kwamis lay snuggled up to each other on a low table. Nearby, their holders also lay sleeping, limbs tangled in a trusting embrace.

* * *

Marinette smiled at Tikki, and lifted her up so that they could rub foreheads. "It seems like a lot of effort to go to just to hang out", she smiled.

"It had more purposes than that", Tikki admitted. "But that was always the best part for me". The little kwami had a distant look on her face, and Marinette guessed she was thinking of her partner.

"I still have one question though", she said, interrupting the kwami's thoughts. "You were telling me this story because somebody taught you something. Why this Dance, out of all the dances?"

Tikki smiled. "More than two hundred Dances, with nearly as many holders. Most of them I don't remember very well. It was a long time ago. But this one I do, because of Dakarai." The little red sprite giggled to herself. "Dakarai's greatest strength was her trust. I had spent a long time being very careful with each new holder. She had every reason to hesitate, many times over. But she never did when it came to trusting her partner. Whether it was me, another of my holders, or one of Plagg's holders. She taught me that I could take that leap of trust without second-guessing. Because really it was about whether I trusted myself."

Marinette thought for a moment of Chat. Tikki recognised the smile on her face, and smirked to herself. Some holders needed to learn that lesson too. On that note...

"So, Marinette, should we go out for a while?" She carefully avoided mentioning Chat, leaving it to Marinette to connect the dots.

Marinette refocused from the distance she'd been staring into, and looked at Tikki with excitement. "Will you let me try a different outfit?"

Nope, dots not connected. Tikki suppressed a groan.

Marinette jumped to her feet and climbed up to her balcony. With an impish grin at her kwami, she struck a pose and called out " _Hesty merty_!" Tikki had just a moment to smile before she was pulled into the earrings. A pink light surrounded Marinette, moving across her body. Her jeans disappeared and were replaced with a pleated wrap of almost-sheer red linen, reaching to her knees. A red headscarf appeared, trailing down her back like wings. A whip and spinning top sat at her hip where her yoyo normally was. She looked like she'd stepped straight out of a papyrus scroll. There was just one problem.

" _Hesty merty_!"

The pink light surrounded her, and she detransformed.

"What's wrong, Marinette?" Tikki giggled. She knew very well what the problem was.

"The outfit! It, um..." and there was a silence. "I, uh.. don't think I could wear that in front of Chat Noir."

"Well, it was a much hotter climate in the New Kingdom than here."

"You're telling me. I'm getting a jacket. And some hot chocolate. Want some?"

"With cookies?"

"For you? Always, Beloved."

* * *

 **A/N: There will be more adventures throughout time and space , but not for a while :-) I have some ideas – I actually started one set in Tillya Tepe / the Silk Road first, before deciding to join the legions and finish this instead – and I'll usually post up an entire arc at once regardless of how many chapters it ends up being. Historical fics take a while for me to write because I get really nerdy about the little details despite MLB being a show that's more about impressions and "feeling" true than what's actually true. On that note I need to apologise for Gabrielophorou. It's a real name from that region of the world, like the others I've used, but as best I can tell I'm using it one if not two thousand years before its actual time. I just loved it too much to leave it out :-)**


	4. Adrien's Prologue

The Louvre Museum was quiet inside, at least relatively so. Adrien had weasled a small amount of time to himself in his schedule, and the photoshoot he'd just done had been close by. So he walked over to the Louvre and showed his ID card for free entry. He liked the Louvre. It was peaceful being someplace where every room had something of greater notoriety than you and everyone's attention was somewhere else. There were still too many people around for Plagg to come out of hiding, but he kept a murmured conversation going from Adrien's pocket. Which Adrien mostly couldn't answer to, and Plagg took full advantage of that.

When they passed a black stone stele, carved over with ancient writing, Plagg fell briefly silent. The silence caught Adrien's attention, and he came back to look more closely at the stele. The writing was cuneiform. The label said the stele was the original Code of Hammurabi, originally displayed for all to read in the city-state-cum-empire of Babylon. In the 18th century BCE.

"So why did this shut you up?" Adrien murmured to his pocket. "Not here", was the only reply. Adrien studied the stone for a while, then moved on.

Later, in his room he gave Plagg several pieces of Camembert without being asked. Plagg got halfway around the wheel before asking "Hey, waitaminnit. Are you trying to bribe me?"

"I don't know, is it working?"

Plagg sighed in exasperation. Now he'd have to choose to forgo cheese, or walk right into whatever Adrien was about to ask for. Might as well find out what it was. "Whaddaya want, kid?"

"Why the stele?"

"Who cares?" Plagg tossed another chunk of cheese into his mouth. Looked like his kitten wasn't going to let this go, so Plagg was going to claim as much cheese as he could. And not make it easy on him.

"You care", Adrien replied with a smile. "It actually shut you up. _Nothing_ does that."

"We don't talk about Babylonia", Plagg tried.

"Seems like we are", Adrien replied. "I studied it, you know. Mesopotamian history. Last year. At least, some of it." He paused. "It was really a mess, that's mostly what I remember from the textbooks. So many city-states and empires that only lasted a couple of generations." His voice turned wheedly. "I don't suppose you could fill me in on a little bit of that?"

Plagg's ears drooped. "Look kitten", he said in a quieter voice than usual. "I can tell you about it. But I warn you, the holders of the Black Cat miraculous usually didn't have great lives. Well, they were great, but not great." He looked around him at Adrien's expensive, grand, lonely cage of a room. Adrien followed his gaze, and took his meaning. "I'd still like to know", he said. "It would help me feel less alone."

Plagg eyed his kitten and nodded. "There's strength in knowing there were others like you", he said decisively. "It's a lesson Su-a never learned". He sighed. "Maybe I should have taught it to him."

"Su-a?"

"My Cat, the Rulebreaker of Babylonia." Plagg nestled up against Adrien, though it wasn't clear who was supporting who, and began.


	5. Rule-breaker of Babylonia, part 1

_A/N: Just noting here that while I've tried to use the correct contemporary language for place names, personal names, magic words etc for the most part, aiming for the 1800s BCE in the Old Babylonian Empire, I've ended up using a few modern-day place names such as Euphrates (which should have been Purattu) just to make it easier for a reader in 2018 to follow what's going on where. I also may have occasionally mixed up Babylonian, Sumerian and Assyrian or gotten a name from the wrong century by accident, and I apologise for that if I have (joys of researching a language that hasn't been spoken for 2000 years in an area with 10,000 years of culture)._

 _Warning for minor character death at the end of this chapter._

* * *

 _Almost 4000 years ago, by the banks of the Euphrates..._

"Report, Adrehasis".

Hammurabi rested against a cushion under the large pistachio tree, and gestured to commence. Adrehasis shifted into a ready stance, hands folded behind his back. He was grateful for the shade – it was a warm day, and the courtyard walls blocked most of the breeze.

"Your Highness. The metal trade remains largely as it should be at this time of year. Our regular supply of Persian copper was reduced to about half due to the summer floods interrupting transport, however we had stockpiled enough during winter to cover that. Now that flood season is over, trade is at normal quantities and our stockpile is recovering."

"Good", Hammurabi mused. "How's the tin? We need more bronze." Adrehasis knew he was thinking of the recent fighting around Mari. That friendly city-state had willingly joined the Babylonian Empire to get inside Hammurabi's trade tariffs, but the tribes at its borders were not so content with the change in rule. The soldiers there would need more weapons soon.

"The tin from the north is coming in smaller quantities, and it's getting more expensive. Looking back at the trade records for the last fifty years, Goltepe is producing much less than it used to. They may be starting to run dry. We will have to allow for that."

"We should just buy it all from the eastern mines. Afghani tin is much cheaper anyhow."

"With respect, your Highness, Afghani tin is only cheap because Goltepe tin is so expensive."

"Ah. So we continue to buy just enough Goltepe tin to ensure the eastern mines don't get too comfortable and put up their prices."

"Exactly. It saves us money in the long run", Adrehasis replied. "We'll have to prepare a plan for when they do run dry though."

Hammurabi looked at his head bronzesmith and metals advisor. Adrehasis' muscles were strong from shaping metal and drawing wire, despite spending much of his time supervising and listening to reports, and his brown eyes showed the broad intelligence that had led Hammurabi to pick him as advisor. His friendly, pleasant face was often an advantage in negotiations.

 _Yes_ , Hammurabi thought, _he'll do_.

"If we're going to plan", he said, "we need some idea of when and how fast they're going to drop out of production." He tapped a finger on his long curled beard. "I want you to go to Goltepe yourself. I trust your eye for the ore. Bring me back a personal report. I'll arrange a royal pass for you to show your authority if you have to make any deals." He nodded at a waiting servant, who left to carry the message to the palace scribes.

"When do you want me to leave, your Highness? We have a major shipment of silver due to come down the river next week, and I should be here to supervise. And your Queen wishes me to finish the new necklace I was making her."

"Do that first. Go after the silver arrives. We have time to work this out. Now, I need to meditate. Shamash demands my respect, and I must listen to the god."

Adrehasis knelt in honour, then left his ruler to his meditation under the pistachio tree. Glancing back as he exited the courtyard, he caught a cruel smile on Hammurabi's face. It sent shivers down his spine.

"See that, Plagg?" he whispered.

His kwami slipped his head up out of Adrehasis' fringed shawl, looking back over his shoulder.

"Listening to the god, huh?" Plagg whispered back. "Looks more like he's imagining 'justice being done'". The little cat-god shivered and hid again. Adrehasis just caught the whispered "Glad he's not my king" before he disappeared into the linen folds.

* * *

"I don't get it", Adrien said. "Didn't Hammurabi write the first code of law? Enshrine the presumption of innocence? He's supposed to have been all about justice. Surely that's a good thing."

"It wasn't the first code, it's just one of the earliest written ones." Plagg replied. "And yeah, he wrote it. Pretty smart of him. He told everyone it was from Shamash so people wouldn't lynch him for usurping the authority of the gods, but we all knew he'd put it together himself. We could tell." The kwami shivered. "Thing is, kid, rules have a purpose." He grinned for a moment. "That's why it's so much fun to break them." The serious look came back. "A system of rules like a law code, though, they work together to feed a bigger purpose. What that purpose is can tell you a lot about someone. Like if they like to kick people when they're down."

He stared into space for a moment, then shook it off. "There's more than one church and political party living off the idea that bad things only happen to people who deserve them. A law code on the same principle isn't out-of-line."

* * *

Instead of heading back to his own workshop, Adrehasis turned towards the kitchens. As usual, they were warm and steamy. He stopped just inside the doorway to watch the head cook at work.

She took a plucked squab from a bucket and picked up a large sharp bronze knife. A few quick cuts, and the skeleton lay splayed across the wooden board. She switched to a smaller knife and with a few deft cuts removed the small chest and thigh fillets, slicing them into small pieces. She slid them into a shallow and wide pan with two handles, added a small amount of oil, and placed the pan onto a stand over a fire. While she shook the pan back and forth, allowing the meat to sear on all sides, an assistant cook took the pigeon carcass and added it to a stewpot of water, hanging it over a second fire to simmer.

"Make sure you add the leeks to that once it's boiled for about five minutes", the head cook called out. A strand of her short hair stuck to the tip of her nose as the steam wisped past her. She tried to blow it off, but it was stuck firmly.

Adrehasis slipped up behind her and pulled it off, tucking it behind her ear. She smiled, not taking her hands from the hot pan. "Adrehasis", she said.

"Monireh", he smiled in return, and kissed her cheek.

She blushed. "Kitty, don't do that. This pan is hot."

"Don't call me that here", he whispered.

"Nobody can hear us over all the other noise", she said, but her eyes acknowledged his point. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be reporting to His Highness? I have an offering for the gods to prepare." The smell of the searing meat wafted past them both, and his stomach growled.

"I've given the report." He sighed. "He wants me to go to Goltepe in a couple of weeks."

"But Igli..."

"I know."

She lifted the pan from the flame back to the wooden board, and tipped the seared-but-still-raw meat into a waiting pot of hot water. "Pass me the _samidu_ , Adre." He handed her the small jar. She crumbled a large pinch of the spice resin into the pot, then hung the pot back over her fire to simmer. "There, that should be ready to serve to the gods in about an hour." She brushed her short hair back out of her face again, and drew him over to the side wall, out of the way of her assistants.

"We'll just have to hope he doesn't get into any more trouble for a while. Now that the stele of Law is erected in the Square of Shamash, the judges know exactly what punishments they will enact. No more getting out of things with the favour of the king's advisor." Her worried expression underlined the words. He tried to make light of it. "Or with bribes from the best cook". She almost grinned at him, but leaned her head against his shoulders instead, toying with his beard. Then one of her assistants caught her eye and she straightened. "Ettu! The leeks! Akki, you need to add the sheep's blood to the grain stew now, not later, it needs time to thicken!" The assistants in question stopped chatting and rushed back to their work. Adrehasis patted Monireh on the shoulder and left for his own workshop.

* * *

"Adrehasis is a bit like my own name", mused Adrien. "I wonder if Ladybug's name is like Monireh?" Subconsciously he twitched a hand towards his computer. "Maybe I could come up with a list of names that were similar, and search for her that way!"

Plagg hid a grin. "Like what, kid? Any ideas spring to mind?"

"Uhh... mon, moni... Monique! That's a good one. Maybe her name is Monique!"

Plagg groaned. "Could be." He muttered to himself very quietly "Or not." Adrien's hearing was good enough to catch it though.

"Wait, Plagg. Do you actually know her name?" Adrien almost leapt off the sofa.

"Chill, kid. Even if I did, I'm not allowed to tell you."

"Buuuut, Plagg!"

"Don't waste your kitten eyes on me, boy. The student cannot beat the master. Now, where were we?"

* * *

Monireh and Adrehasis blanched. Igli dropped his eyes.

"It was an accident. That's all."

"But sweetling", Monireh said. "It was an accident where someone died." There was fear in her eyes. Adrehasis knew the same fear was probably in his own.

"It's not like we've never had accidents before", Igli argued, a stubborn set to his mouth. "We were just hanging out". Which meant, in Igli-speak, that the young men had been a little beer-happy, and challenging each other to do stupid things. Like leaping from a wall over a bronze-tipped spear. Which Igli had been holding. When he stumbled.

He was right in that it wasn't the first time one of the lads' adventures had gone wrong. Adrehasis and Monireh had both tried to keep Igli from making any more mistakes, get him onto some kind of responsible path. But it seemed that stubbornness ran in the family. And now it had led here. To an actual death, not just an injury or a broken wall or emptied storeroom. The death of Laliya, one of Igli's good friends – the lad was trying not to show the hurt but it was clearly there - and who was also the son of a rather belligerent man.

There was no way he wouldn't take Laliya's death to the courts.

And the Code of Shamash, of Hammurabi, worked on a simple principle. Punish the perpetrator. Hard.

Adrehasis had argued this with Hammurabi once.

"Your Highness. For centuries a criminal has been required to provide compensation, redress. How does "an eye for an eye" provide redress to the victim?"

Hammurabi had just smiled, that smile that hid more satisfaction than it should. "What better redress could there be than forcing a criminal to undertake the same loss that the victim felt?" His gaze held Adrehasis'. "Besides", he said. "it's what the people want. They want the one that hurt them to not get away with it. They will accept this. Shamash has told me so."

"It won't restore their money, their crops, their health".

"They won't care. All they really want is for the blame to fall. Hard. Su-a himself knows this. He brings no gifts or recompense. Instead he walks amongst us carrying destruction, the vehicle of the Immortals' punishment, in the tips of his fingers. How could my punishments be much less without seeming too weak to rule?"

Adrehasis couldn't hide his flinch. "But Kalmatu Hush brings restoration", he said. "She brings the healing, the renewal."

"Only after the destruction," Hammurabi replied, "like the winter growth after the summer flood. She is of no matter in the eyes of Shamash." He shrugged. "Really, I'm protecting people this way."

"How can demanding someone's death protect people?"

Hammurabi just grinned at him. "It stops them demanding the death of a whole family instead of just the one. I'm forcing the judges to set limits on the retaliation anyone can seek."

Thinking back on it, while he could see the logic, it was the grin as Hammurabi said it that bothered Adrehasis the most.

* * *

"Was he actually a sadist?" Adrien asked, puzzled. "He seems so cruel."

Plagg sighed.

"No, he wasn't. He was really very ordinary. He didn't get off on people's pain, and that's why he insisted that the presumption of innocence be part of the code. But he was punitive. He understood vengeance very, very well, and that's the feeling he was addicted to." The little kwami looked out the window. "You look out there", he said, "you'll see a lot of people who think that way. They're sure that right and wrong are black and white, they don't see how their emotion and self-interest clouds it. And then someone hurts them somehow. Most of them never get the power to hand out the punishment they want to happen, nothing much comes of their feelings, and the world just turns. But now that Hawkmoth is looking for them and helping..."

"...giving the people what they want..." Adrien said thoughtfully.

"Exactly. Kid, there's a lot of ways to run the world, and a lot of different kinds of justice. As far as I can see, the best ones don't try to give people what they want. They try to not give everybody what they don't want."

"You know, I'm not sure that makes any sense."

"While you're thinking about it, pass me more cheese."

* * *

Adrehasis ran to the king's chamber, pausing outside the doorstep to straighten his skirt under his belt and re-arrange his necklaces into a semblance of order. The king's guard waved him inside.

"Please, your Highness", he said without preamble. "I know the punishment of the judge is as the god has demanded, but please. It was truly an accident. My son is no more to blame for the death of his friend than the friend himself. Please intervene in the decision."

Hammurabi's eyes were cold, with only the tiniest hint of sadness. "There is no provision for the blame to be shared. Your son's actions killed a man. He must give his life in return."

Adrehasis fell to his knees, worn through. "Please", he begged just once, as quietly as if there was no more air left to speak with.

"The law applies to everyone, no matter who", Hammurabi said. "Su-a taught me that." He reached to a nearby table and picked up a small clay tablet. "Here is the royal pass. Go to Goltepe and do your work, Igli-Abi*". ( _Father of Igli_ ).

Kalmatu Hush stood across the river from the execution ground. Her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, long red sleeves hiding the tight V-necked bodice of her linen dress. Her dog collar necklace felt like it was going to choke her, even though she knew that her skin could be completely bare and her throat would still be so full of sobs she couldn't breathe. Monireh wanted to be on the other side of the water, to see and hold her son one last time. But they'd agreed that Adrehasis should be there, and she should wait here, preserving both their identities. When they'd asked if _Tabrati_ could fix even death, her kwami hadn't given any answer, only looked down sadly. But it was all they had left to try.

Across the water, a young man's form fell to the ground. Kalmatu Hush whispered a short prayer to Gula, who returns the dead to life, and called " _Tabrati*!_ ". ( _Miracle_ )

A child's ball fell into her hands. She felt the pressure of Adrehasis' gaze on her from even here, watching, and threw the ball high upwards without any hesitation. " _Tabrati!_ " she called again. A wave of red and silver bugs flew outwards on a wash of pink light.

She waited a full minute, watching the form of the young man on the ground, her husband standing just as still.

Her earrings chimed. She put a hand to her face.

Nothing had changed. Adrehasis lifted his gaze from the young man at his feet to the lady across the river. She nodded at him, tears falling, then turned to disappear amongst the fields before her transformation released. As she turned, she saw him stooping to lift the body of their son in his arms.

* * *

 _A/N: Fun fact: the cooking that Monireh does can be found in a little cookbook I have, which is an English translation of a French translation of a set of Ancient Mesopotamian clay tablet "recipe cards". Worth looking into if you get the chance. Lots of stews, almost no frying unless it was for a very special meal and even then it was really only browning before putting into yet another stew. Also a bunch of spices that we have no idea what they were, although apparently cumin and garlic have been popular for at least four thousand years now._


	6. Rule-breaker of Babylonia, part 2

Su-a stumbled over the rooftops. His grief blocked his vision. All he could see was the next few steps, and if there was nothing but empty air in those he sometimes mis-stepped. Mostly he leapt the partly-covered streets easily, but wider courtyards nearly sent him sprawling several times. Each time he got up and kept moving, in no direction except _away_. Finally his blurry vision registered that there was nothing but empty air in front of him, no further wall at all. He realised this just as he leapt into it. He managed to get his staff under him, its base stuttering along the stone paving, and break his fall. Just. One of his ankles bent awkwardly as he landed. The shock of the failed leap brought him back to himself and he looked around, gasping for breath.

The large black stone stele in the centre of the square seemed to look back at him, mockingly, as he hung his weight against the staff.

He was in the Square of Shamash. It was too much. He limped over to the stone, ankle struggling with his weight, and traced a finger down its cramped writing. Here, in hard cuts for anyone to read, lay the punishment for every crime. No matter the cause.

His heart broke once again. A law for everyone, no matter who, why or how loved.

In that moment, all understanding of the balance of the kingdom's power was gone. None of it mattered. He raised his hand away from the stone.

" _Abatu*_ ". (* _Destroy_ )

The darkness, the Unmaking, swirled around his clenched fist. An infinity of Time accelerating into the infinite space between atoms, a magnificent and unstoppable entropy. He lifted it all with one hand, and slammed it _hard_ against the stone.

Moments later, the square was empty. No stele marked its centre. And no cat remained in the space it left. Only one thing broke the darkness, the hush. A slight gasp in a dark corner between two houses, with a flutter of red sleeve as someone tried to hide the sound.

Su-a was nearly to the edge of the city when he felt it. A wash of pink light, a scattering of tiny red and silver bugs that spread out from the Square of Shamash, one even landing on his ankle. He wept, pushed his weight into the foot and ran harder.

* * *

Kalmatu Hush found him at their hill, across the river from the First City. His arms curled around his legs, tears streaking his black eyeliner down his face. An empty beer jar lay nearby with his kwami dozing beside it. She dropped down beside him, detransforming and sitting looking out at the view without a word.

It hurt that he didn't reach an arm around her like he usually would. But she wasn't surprised, either.

Eventually he broke the silence.

"You fixed it", he said. She didn't know if the reproach she heard in his voice was truly there, or whether she just wanted it to be.

"The stele? Yes." _And I hate myself for it. But I had to._ She didn't know if he heard that in her voice either.

"Those laws will stand as long as this Empire does." His voice broke. "How many other children will pay such a price?"

She sighed. "It was you who told me that maybe this was the way to make sure less of them did." There was a pause, then she continued. "If some parents are spared this grief because of it, then..." she took a breath, words unwilling, then pushed them out in a rush "then... I envy them."

He snorted, almost a laugh if it hadn't been for the devastating pain behind it. "Yeah."

They sat there a while.

"I can't go back, you know" he said finally.

"Why? Nobody knows you are Su-a, and there is no evidence of the stele ever having been damaged."

"I know. And you know."

"I love you. Why does it matter if I know?"

He sighed. "I guess it doesn't. I love you too, Bug. But I can't stay in the City any longer. I can't attend his meetings or take his orders." Adrehasis looked out at the city, but she could see that he didn't see it. "I can't pretend that he and his judge didn't order my son to death."

"What will we do instead?"

He looked at her sharply. "We?"

"Do you think I'm letting you go alone?"

"The city needs you, Bug. More than it needs me."

"That's not true. And you need me more than they do."

He stood up, and spoke harshly. "No. I don't. _Sinitu*_!" (* _Transformation Dance_ )

A green light fell around them, and Su-a stood above her, glaring. "Don't follow me". He extended his staff and leapt away, following the river faster than she could run.

"I'm sorry, Monireh", Tikki said. "I'm not strong enough to transform you a fourth time."

"I know, Tikki". The kwami flew to her shoulder, snuggling into her shawl, and they both looked out at the city, crying for their loved ones.

* * *

The riverboat travelled slowly but steadily upriver, turning its sail with or against the wind to gain wherever it could against the slow current. Adrehasis sat on a wooden box, watching the grainlands go by. This boat would take him to Mari, and then he could catch another boat heading upriver for the mountain mines.

"This is a stupid idea", Plagg muttered from inside his shawl. "And I'm hungry."

"We have to space out the beer. This boat isn't making many stops."

"It's still a stupid idea."

"Says you."

There was an exasperated silence from inside his shawl, and then an ear twitched out, followed by a grumpy black face. Adrehasis shifted so Plagg was still hidden from the boatmen. "It's a stupid idea because you miss her. You need her. You two aren't meant to work alone."

"It's my powers, my bad luck that killed our son."

"No it _isn't_ ", Plagg replied, for what felt like the two hundredth time. He sighed. "Look, there's something you ought to think about. Just listen. Please."

"If you say her name I'm throwing you overboard."

"It's not about her. It's about Hammurabi." Plagg saw that his kitten was at least listening, so he continued.

"Have you ever wondered why you were chosen, and not him?"

"Not really. Why would anyone give a king the power of bad luck?"

"It's not about the luck. It's about the power of destruction. Think about it – it's the power of the gods, meant for kings among men, not mere mortals. Instead of having long drawn out campaigns, this king could have won his wars with a mere touch. It would have saved countless lives."

"So why didn't he get it?"

Plagg grimaced. "Because he would have used it. Remember the look on his face when he was meditating on the law code?"

Adrehasis flinched.

"Basically, kitten, someone who needs to punish others isn't mentally stable enough to wield this kind of power. Very bad things could happen." With that, Plagg tucked himself back under the shawl, out of the sun. He'd learnt long ago that any kitten with a strong enough will to wield his power and not go insane also generally didn't change their mind just because he said they should. Hopefully, this time, he'd said enough.

A day's travel downriver, Tikki's antennae shivered. She nestled into Monireh's collarbone and whispered "They're still ahead of us. Still moving."

Monireh whispered back "Thank you." She turned her eyes forward, willing her luck to bring the right winds to their sails. She had a cat to catch.

In Mari, Monireh stayed only as long as she needed to confirm that Adrehasis had been there. "I think he's heading for the tin mine at Goltepe."

Tikki furrowed her brow. "Didn't Hammurabi say he wanted him to go there? I don't think Adrehasis is in any mood to follow his king's instructions."

"I don't either, Tikki. But he had a tablet giving him a royal pass to negotiate with the tin miners. He showed it to someone when he was looking for a boat to catch. So if we at least head in that direction we're still following him". Unspoken, they shared the thought that if he changed direction, hopefully they'd realise in time. Or that luck would let them catch up before he disappeared completely from the map. Hopefully.

* * *

The Khabur River was less broad than the Euphrates. The riverboat Adrehasis caught was heading for a silver mine outside of Sikkan. He wasn't the only passenger they'd taken on – there were another two looking to bathe at one of Sikkan's springs. When they'd asked him why he was heading there, he'd simply let them believe it was for the same reason. And it was almost true. He'd listened to enough about Sikkan's rocks in the mine reports to have realised a few things. Like that they were soft, specially so, and that water went up and down through them in many places. And that much of the Khabur's water came from there. When the riverboat pulled in at Sikkan in the morning he ignored the town. Instead he slung his bag over his shoulder, adjusted his necklace so that the strap didn't rub on it, tightened his sandals and began walking up into the hills.

"So what exactly is your plan here?" Plagg asked, as the town receded around a cliff. "This is karst country, and I don't exactly feel like getting lost at the bottom of a sinkhole."

"Karst?" Some limestone crumbled under his feet and he stumbled backwards.

"Yeah, this rock. It used to be under the ocean. Now it's full of holes." Plagg grinned. "I kinda like it, actually."

Adrehasis looked around him, and stopped, lifting Plagg out carefully from his shawl and rubbing his forehead against the little kwami's.

"I realised that what I said to Kalmatu Hush was true", he replied, grief still in his eyes. "Those laws will stand as long as this Empire does. I also realised", he continued more strongly, "that what you said was true. Hammurabi can't be allowed to wield his power without interference."

"That's not at all what I said!"

"Close enough. So, what we're going to do, is break a rule. His rule." Adrehasis gave a black laugh. "We'll give him enough interference that he'll spend the rest of his life having to manage his own empire instead of conquering new ones." His face turned dark. "However long or little that life is. Are you with me, Plagg?"

The little cat-god sighed. "Unfortunately, and I'm not sure for who, I think I am." He craned his neck around. "Is there more beer in your bag?"

"Yes. We're going to need it. _Sinitu!_ "

Destruction followed upon destruction, as Plagg and Adrehasis found place after place that a well-aimed _Abatu_ would bring the water pouring from the rock. Across the day and through the karst they created twenty new springs, each gushing nearly as much water as the river had held on the journey up. When Plagg finished the last jar of beer, he rolled onto his back, chest heaving for breath. "I don't think I can do any more, Adre."

"I'm tired too, Plagg. But it's OK. I think that's enough. More than enough."

* * *

Far away in Tuttul on the Euphrates River, Monireh and Tikki huddled together in a rented room. "I can't find any sign of him having reached here", Monireh said. "I think we've lost him. We'll have to go back towards Mari and see if we can work out where he left the river". Tikki bumped her forehead reassuringly. "We'll find them", she said.

But they had only travelled half a day downstream before the riverboat had to pull over to the bank. Reports came of a great flood, out of season this close to winter, coming down the Khabur River and into the Euphrates below. One of the biggest they'd had in the lifetime of the boatman who passed on the news, and he looked wrinkled and spotted from years of sun. Traffic would be stilled for at least a week. Monireh knew that trade would be disrupted for far, far longer. She conferred briefly with Tikki, then they went back to Tuttul to wait for the Khabur to be passable once again.

* * *

It was a pleasant day in Sikkan. Monireh walked to the far side of the town from the riverboat landings, following her instincts. A small house drew her, and she knocked upon the entry.

A little black kwami buzzed out through the wall and dived into the fringe of her shawl. "About time you got here", he said. "Adrehasis can't make flatbread nearly as good as yours."

"We'd have been here sooner, but there was this flood in the way", she said to him as she walked through to the small courtyard in the centre of the house.

Adrehasis looked up at her from his bench. "I told you not to follow me. Did you get caught in it?" He sounded more worried than angry.

"Luckily", and she looked down at her kwami who was looking a little sheepish, "we didn't realise you'd gone up the Khabur. We were north of the confluence when the flood came down."

They faced each other.

"What now?" she said.

"I bought this house", he said, gesturing around. "In another name. They won't find us here."

"They're not going to be looking for a while. Your little flood – I assume that was you two?", she said, raising her eyebrows. "– the flood moved the course of the river. A lot. According to the boatmen, there's a river city or two downstream that are now fifty kilometres from the banks, and some others that are half-buried. Hammurabi will be swamped by petitions for assistance and with sorting out the trade issues. He won't notice you failing to return for quite a long time, and if he does he may just think you were lost in the flood."

She smiled at him. "He might notice his head cook leaving a little sooner though, which is why I made sure I left scribed notes on tablets for Ettu and Akki. They should be able to handle most dishes themselves now anyway."

"Are you going to fix what I did?" he said, watching her face carefully, uncertain of her response.

She sighed. "No, I'm not. It means some major changes for the Empire, but change is not a bad thing of itself. We spent some time talking to the boatmen, trying to work out the extent of the damage. There's a large area of grainlands that just got extra soil and water that haven't since the last big flood a century ago, and Tikki says that if we fix that, there's some cities that will starve in a few years from crop failure." She looked at him sadly.

He stood, finally, and hugged her close. "I missed you, Bug", he said, burying his head into her shoulder.

She tweaked his beard. "Next time, don't leave me behind then."

* * *

"They moved the river?" Adrien asked, surprised.

"Yeah. The Euphrates is in a lot of flat land. It moves a bit every time it floods, and a big flood that dumps a lot of soil can move it a long way."

"That explains why the Mesopotamian maps I was studying last year seemed to shift around. I just thought it was changes in map-making. But if cities actually left the river, or rather the river left the cities, that would make any map a bit unreliable."

"Plus, y'know, they didn't really use maps. No paper."

"That too, I guess."

They sat there together for a while, staring into nothing in particular. Eventually Adrien broke the silence.

"That must have really sucked, hearing the king blame him for the laws that killed his son."

"Yeah."

"It's weird", Adrien said. "But hearing that actually does make me feel a bit better. Like, I'm here, I'm alive, I have friends. I have Ladybug."

"You also have boots and trousers. It's a lot easier to kick butt with those."

"I still have my dad, I guess, even though it doesn't feel like it most of the time. And I have a safe place to live".

"Apart from the akumas".

"Yeah, well, nothing's perfect."

Plagg rolled his eyes at Adrien. "Cheese. Cheese is perfect. How many times do I have to tell you?"

The boy laughed, and ruffled the top of the kwami's head, laughing harder as the little cat-god tried to get away.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for reading this! I love reviews, let me know what you thought - my editing got interrupted a bit so there's bound to be rough patches. I had fun with lots of the little bits of Bronze-age Mesopotamian culture and what is now known as the Old Babylonian Empire (obviously it wasn't called that at the time). Also with the ideas behind how we make laws, and how that reflects our society._


End file.
